Sonnet 147
by cottontaildwarf
Summary: She turns around and has to shield her eyes. The sun is too bright. It is too much for her to look at. It has always been this way.


I

_My love is as a fever longing still;_

_For that which no longer nurses the disease._

Raindrops pitter-patter against the stone panes of a castle's windows, sending ripples of sound bouncing off the hall walls. The entire structure is silent, holding its breath, waiting for something.

She runs her hand through her hair once and some of her side bangs become lopsided. She does not fix them, because there is no one here to see, no one to judge, no one she wishes or cares to impress.

Her sigh echoes throughout the chamber and a breeze of snowflakes pass through her lips, dissolving in the air. She watches them with mild interest. Opening her mouth, she huffs out a small whirlwind and watches it evaporate mere moments after its birth.

Bored once again, she returns her attention to the world outside where the rain is thinning to a shower. She smiles.

Anna used to describe the weather outside to her in great detail every day through the door to her room and never ceased to add her own commentary to the mix.

"_Elsa, it's sunny!"_

"_Princess Elsa, the breeze is calling out for you to play!"_

"_Madame, your presence is demanded by moi. Join me in our quest to blow away the clouds of despair!"_

_She thought about remarking to Anna that she had a perfectly usable window in her own room announcing the weather to her every morning, but then feared it would only be one less reason for Anna to come talk to her door in the morning._

She laughs, remembering the different accents Anna would fail to imitate correctly in her efforts to get her older sister's attention.

She stands up and walks over to the double doors across from her bed. She pushes them open and steps out to the balcony.

The droplets shatter on her skin and stream down her face, her neck, and her arms. If she willed it, she could turn every single one into spheres of clear, cold crystal.

Solid to replace liquid.

Ice to replace water.

Frozen to replace the cold.

She cherishes the moments when the weather is not affected by her.

She closes her eyes and pictures paint themselves on the backs of her eyelids, and a voice long gone echoes in her ear. The memory is a fond one.

_It was the first time Anna had visited her since the brunette had turned fifteen, and the last time before the Coronation Day._

"_Hi," Anna was awkward and quiet, but retained the ditzy tone she seemed to have even when she was deadly serious._

_Elsa jumped from the other side of her door, surprised to hear her sister's voice from so close. Usually she had to covertly open her window to watch as her sister played in the gardens with their cousins and with the animals their father brought her._

"_It's raining outside."_

_It was. The blonde had casually glanced outside to see the falling waters but only now did she take the time to follow specific drops as they passed by on their way to the garden grass._

"_I wonder if mom and dad are okay."_

_Elsa glanced over at the barque model resting on the floor before her. The breeze streaming in from the crack in the panes gave the sails a small whoosh and they billowed almost imperceptibly. _

_Her parents had a model of their most beautiful ship, the _Valkyrie_, crafted for her for her eighteenth birthday. It was the same ship that they had left on to go to Corona almost a week ago, leaving Anna more restless than ever._

"_It's so gray outside."_

_The older sister crawled quietly over to her window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Below her, the leaves and grass bounced with each tap of rain, dancing to a beat no man would ever be able to keep up with._

_The clouds shifted and changed shades, dying the world below them in a million different shades of gray. She found she quite enjoyed the change. Much as she loved the bright colorfulness of her home country, she felt most calm in weather like this._

"_It's so sad."_

_Her eyebrow twitched. _

Sad? Anna, you find this sad?

She looks up to the floating puffs above her as they paint her a shade of their own color. With their harmless tendencies clouds change the world and give it life, then move on to do the same someplace else.

Rain is the embodiment of life, of vitality; proof that the earth will protect those it wishes to keep living; a symbol that many do not and will never appreciate for what it is, because they will never close their eyes and open their selves and _see._

She lets out a sigh when she is positively soaked and the life stops falling. The sun peeks out from between the clouds like a little sister who's been outside a door waiting for her sister to come and open it up.

Elsa throws off her shoes and steps onto the slippery wet balcony with her feet against the water on ice. She looks out to the horizon, where the clouds are making their way towards, and begins to feel the heat of the bright star on her back.

The clouds were so calm, so quiet as they went away without a sound, leaving her alone in her isolation. They were changing their colors now; adapting to the fact that the sun wanted to brighten them they bleach themselves a pearly white and shrink with distance.

She turns around and has to shield her eyes. The sun is too bright. It is too much for her to look at. It has always been this way.

The sun has always been _right there_ and she wants to reach out for it, to hold it in her hand and keep it close so that she can brighten the dark corners of her own self–

–but it's so _bright_ and she can't bring herself to look at it because it is so wonderful and blissful and so, so warm and _Anna_–

Anna, if rain is sad, what am I?


End file.
